


Bastille Day

by guineamania



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Bastille Day, Combeferre regrets his life choices, Enjolras is a reckless fool, Gen, Masked Vigilante
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-25
Updated: 2014-05-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:29:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1688387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineamania/pseuds/guineamania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras decides that to mark the day of the fall of the Bastille he is going to break into La Force, you know, just because. Unfortunately the masked heroes who usually save his ungrateful ass are out of commission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bastille Day

Enjolras was awake before the sun had risen in the sky and the sunrise was nothing compared to the hungry flames burning in his eyes. It was 40 years since the Bastille fell and the Amis didn't plan on sitting idly during this momentous day. What decent revolutionary group wouldn't celebrate this anniversary? And Enjolras was hyped up for a smaller version if that heroic day; but equally important. They were going to break all the revolutionaries out of La Force. There were currently loads trapped in there from the last joint process from all the groups. Courfeyrac and Bahorel were amongst the felons they would rescue. Despite the Bastille Day hype, Enjolras knew that they weren't entirely doing it as a celebration; lately they had overworked La Libérateur and Le Révolutionnaire in their tasks to remove all the revolutionaries from their cells. When Enjolras had last seen the pair, the masked leader of the duo was still recovering from a serious knife wound. He was still on his feet and ready to work but they could not ask him to do this without any help. Enjolras pulled his coat on and darted to their designated meeting spot a few hours early.  
"Captain! You cannot do this," Combeferre hissed at the slumped figure. Grantaire was propped up against the wall with his disguise securely fastened on. His battered and worn mask fitted around most of his face, hiding his features from the world. Its black form deepened in the shadows but its red edging amplified the paleness of its owner's pallor. The red scarf hung limply round his neck hiding the swirling R tattoo Courfeyrac had coerced him into getting. The only nice clothes Grantaire owned were part of his costume; a red riding jacket with tails clung to his slender frame with plan black jodhpurs clinging to him.  
"I can do what I want Combeferre. You are not in charge of what I do outside of the Amis," he mumbled with his hazel eyes beginning to drift closed.  
"But you are my friend. I care about you Hidraot and you are not leaving this cafe today," Combeferre insisted and Grantaire knew he was never going to be swayed from this point.  
"How come La Révolutionnaire is not going to be making an appearance then?" Grantaire asked, trying to change the subject.  
"Combeferre is needed more than him today," Combeferre whispered, checking no one had joined them.  
"They will think we have deserted them if neither of us turns up for the celebrations. And you will never succeed without my expertise!" He exclaimed with as much power as him weakened frame could manage.  
"No!" Combeferre shouted but both felt silent as they heard a movement.  
Enjolras walked into the cafe to hear two voices arguing. He tried to move silently but his boot scuffed against the floor and alerted the voices to his presence. Enjolras sighed and just walked in to face them. He was shocked to see his second in command talking to their masked vigilante. "Monsieur La Libérateur, I wasn't expecting to see you today! I thought you would be recovering," Enjolras commented sitting down; he noticed the glare Combeferre sent at the hunched figure.  
"How many times have I told you to call me Hidraot...and there are men in prison. It is my duty," he shrugged with a wince. Enjolras noticed Combeferre flinch at the wince and he couldn't hold in his questions any longer.  
"Combeferre, I didn't know you were close acquaintances with captain here?" Enjolras questioned needing an answer from his lifelong friend.  
"I'm his doctor. That's why he is not to leave this chair all day. He has already strained himself far too much!" Combeferre exclaimed, mostly for their mysterious visitor's benefit.  
"I will not miss the momentous celebrations," the Libérateur stated and this time Combeferre practically growled.  
"That is it!" he exclaimed with a frightening coldness.  
Within a couple of minutes, Grantaire was handcuffed to a railing and Combeferre's mind was slightly more at ease. He turned to see Enjolras sat bemused. Combeferre just shrugged at him and Enjolras chuckled at Grantaire's whining and violent threats. He was still completely unaware of his hero's identity and it needed to stay that way. He watched as Grantaire tried to pick the cuffs and smiled as he stopped his efforts in exasperation. "Come on Enj, he won't be moving today," Combeferre smirked and Grantaire rolled his eyes. They left together into the clammy morning air letting the door swing shut behind them. Thankfully Enjolras didn't notice the soft red velvet of La Révolutionnaire's cloak slipping from Combeferre's pocket.  
"Jehan, Joly, Feuilly! You get in and let all our men out. Bossuet and Marius you are with me getting them all out of the building and to our safe house. Combeferre you take the du Maine boys to the maximum security!" Enjolras ordered with a manic gleam in his eye. It was all coming together and they were moving in. All the groups split off and Feuilly's team moved in through the secret entrance that their vigilante told them of. Enjolras's team marched to the front gates with two other groups of revolutionaries. Combeferre and team disappeared into the tunnel. Enjolras smiled as he waved his flag and they marched in rhythm. "Do you hear the people sing?" he shouted as the crowd approached the doors.  
All was going well until they battered down the doors; Feuilly's team and Combeferre's team were locked in a fire fight with the guards. Enjolras swore under his breath and his hoard dived into the battle. They outnumbered the opponent and thankfully the guards had been ordered to capture not to kill in this battle. But they were falling like flies into the prison's web. All was looking dire and Enjolras was about to yell the order to retreat. He opened his mouth to call but an equally powerfully voice beat him to it. "Charge!" someone shouted, and Enjolras looked to his side. Flanking his side were the hordes that had been imprisoned, the ones they had come to rescue. They were armed to the teeth and charged with a scream to the rescuers rescue. The orders of their impromptu squadron came from a familiar figure. The masked form of La Révolutionnaire stood majestically on top of an overturned box as Enjolras was. He spotted Enjolras and winked. With a whoosh of his velvet cloak and a jump, he was at Enjolras' side.  
"Thanks for the distraction, Enjolras," the man slurred in his customary Parisian drawl. "Would never 'ave managed to get rid of all the guards watchin over this lot otherwise," he chuckled and the smile was restored to Enjolras' face. "I 'ear Combeferre locked up my partner," he smiled and Enjolras nodded. He had no idea why he felt so eager to please this man but every time La Révolutionnaire sent on of his easy going smiles in Enjolras' direction he felt his heart light up with pride. He felt like a child who had just been praised by his teachers; it was ridiculous. "Good that man is too reckless for his own good. Do you know where I could find 'im?" The cloaked figure asked.  
"The Musain," Enjolras blurted out; again getting that strange feeling.  
"Thanks. Do you wanna give the order?" he asked and Enjolras smiled before addressing the fighting crowd.  
"Fall back! Leave no one behind!" He called out waving the flag. As people scurried to leave, Enjolras turned with words of thanks on his lips. La Révolutionnairewas gone.  
Combeferre darted out the secret tunnel in a flurry if red velvet and black linen. He was still running on adrenaline from the mission and kept replaying it in his mind.As soon as he saw the battle turn bad he knew what needed to be done. He left his squad fighting, praying no one would notice him leaving. The only way they could win was with the added man power the prisoners would provide. It did not take him look to transform into La Révolutionnaire with his red velvet cloak, black waist coat and white shirt making him instantly unrecognisable. People in a panic were more likely to follow their hero than some medical student. His mask was similar to Grantaire's apart from instead of just a red lining it had raging flames blazing across it. All the guards had been distracted by Enjolras' arrival so there were only two guards defending the cells. They were easily taken care of and in seconds Combeferre had the first of the doors swinging. He sighed in relief when Courfeyrac and Bahorel stared up at him with a small smile. "Thought you were leaving us then," Courfeyrac smiled and Combeferre chuckled from behind the mask.  
"Now why would I disappoint on such a momentous day? But I need your 'elp," he stated as both men stood up. "Your noble friend just walked in to a trap and dey need man power," he stated unlocking the next door as he talked. "I need you two to unlock all these doors and gather all the men at the end of this corridor," he instructed and both of his friends nodded.  
"Of course Monsieur. May I ask where your compatriot is?" Courfeyrac asked taking the keys from Combeferre's outstretched hand.  
"'E has 'urt himself and couldn't make it today," Combeferre explained and flamboyantly waved the two men to their duties.  
Now was the hard part; two leaders were locked in maximum security. One was leader of Barrier Du Maine society and the other was a close friend if Enjolras' and ran the Lyon divisions. He had travelled up with some of his men from their main protest two days ago and had been caught. The men he rescued would not follow Combeferre unless their squad leaders said to. If he couldn't get them out they were all doomed. Combeferre hated pressure. He was perfectly happy as Enjolras' right hand man; not a leadership or solo role. Guards had swarmed the maximum security corridor and Combeferre swore under his breath. He needed a way to get rid of them.  
You can tell the world had twisted into insanity when you find yourself in a situation where you need to ask 'What would Grantaire do?' Thankfully, that seemed to hold all the answers in prison break situations. He had never tried this before but it always seemed to work for Grantaire in their escapades. Combeferre was never doing this alone again; the only reason he wasn't in one if the cells already was because if the distraction. He needed the leader of their mission back; Combeferre was almost regretting handcuffing him to a pole now. Almost regretting. He took a deep breath and drifted back into his common Parisian slur that came naturally with this suit. "Report to the main square now!" Combeferre shouted with the voice he used when he was ordering Enjolras to sleep. Unbelievably, it seemed to work and the men filtered away from the cells. Combeferre's hands were trembling uncontrollably as he pulled his lock pick set out of the secret pocket. This was the first time he had used the things Grantaire had taught him without Grantaire there to correct him if he was going wrong.  
Two broken lock picks later the door swung open to see Lucas Benneteau, leader of the Lyon Revolutionaries, sat cast in shadow. "I will not tell you anything," he snarled without looking at the silhouette that loomed in the doorway. If he had looked up, Lucas would have known that there was no way this man was a guard. The shimmering flames on his mask flickered and his cloak floated out behind him.  
"Now is that anyway t' talk to your rescuer, Monsieur?" Combeferre chuckled, drifting into character to fool a man he had been friends with for many years. Lucas' head snapped up and his face softened slightly.  
"So you're the one Ricard has been telling me about, La Libérateur?" Lucas chuckled but Combeferre shook his head.  
"I'm his associate, he couldn't be here today," Combeferre stated stepping into the cell.  
"Why should I go with you? I've never heard of you. You could be playing some mind game with me," Lucas almost snarled.  
"I am a friend of Ricard's, I 'ave saved his life a million times over and 'e will trust me with it again. I 'ave just freed all your men and they need a leader to save the rest of the revolutionaries," Combeferre stated in exasperation and let out a sigh of relief when Lucas nodded slowly.  
"I may need some help," he admitted and Combeferre knelt down. His hip was broken and blood was dried in his ebony hair.  
"I'll help you; you help me," Combeferre winked.  
Combeferre practically dragged the injured leader to the cell next door and gently laid him on the floor next to the door. His hands fumbled with the picks and he broke another three before he got the hang of it. He heard a soft chuckle from next to him. "You're not very good at this whole prison break thing are you?" he asked with a slight smirk and Combeferre rolled his eyes under the mask.  
"I got you out, didn't I," he retorted but just received another chuckle.  
"Why couldn't La Libérateur be here?" Lucas asked after a moment's silence.  
"He is recovering," Combeferre replied bluntly but Lucas was not satisfied.  
"From what?" he pestered while Combeferre was still working the door open.  
"He was shot in the stomach during a break out. We thought we knocked out all the men but one was still conscious and shot him though the back," Combeferre explained and finally his charge fell silent. He pushes the door open and was pounced on by Gilles Tsonga, head of the Barrier du Maine. Combeferre blocked Gilles' furious strikes at his face and kicked the larger man off him.  
"I 'ave had two great receptions to rescues today," he panted standing over Gilles. His mask was slightly askew on his face as he recovered.  
"Who are you?" Gilles hissed, currently not sure whether to renew his attack on the masked madman.  
"I am La Révolutionnaire and I am here to save you," he sighed, the speech lacking the splendour Grantaire brought to their dangerous dance. Looked in a fierce state with Gilles, Combeferre was distracted as Lucas slowly got to his feet and used the wall to work his way towards Combeferre. He jumped up and knocked Combeferre's mask off his face. Combeferre spun around to grab it and was met with Lucas' gobsmacked expression.  
"C-Combeferre?" Lucas stuttered as he fell back to the floor in pain.  
"You will tell no one!" Combeferre shouted as he slid the mask back on again. Both men nodded still bemused.  
"Who's La Libérateur?" Gilles asked, picking himself up off the floor and giving himself a dust off.  
"I will not divulge his identity! And you knowing is putting us all at risk. If I hear one word about this we will both be paying you a little visit," he threatened. Combeferre was usually a very peaceful man. But when you got on the wrong side of him, or threatened the well-being of his friends; no power on heaven or earth could save you.  
He pulled the mask and costume back on and helped Lucas down the eerily quiet corridors. They turned the corner and Bahorel was stood waiting. "Boss, we've gathered them but they are getting seriously unruly. We won't be able to keep them here for long," Bahorel stated and received a nod from Combeferre.  
"Good work boys," he smiled, passing Lucas to Bahorel. "Dominic, can you help Benneteau to his men?" Combeferre asked but disappeared before the man could answer. He armed the men and they marched.  
Combeferre flew through the back streets in a flurry. There was no time or safe place to change back so the cloaked figure stuck to the shadows like a ghostly spectre. He slid in the back door of the cafe and chuckled at the sight. Grantaire was curled up, wrapped in his cloak, with his arms still tied up. He slept peacefully and his mask was slightly sliding off his nose. Combeferre prowled over like a mother cat and softly uncuffed him, gently placing his arms over the cloak. Combeferre pushed Grantaire's mask and secured it back in place. He didn't have the heart to move the sleeping drunkard; he never got enough sleep between his drunken activities and his hero moments. Combeferre pushed his weapons back in the secret store but pulled out a crossbow and slid it under the table; you could never be two careful. He settled into a chair next to Grantaire and sat watch.  
Enjolras walked in cheering with the Amis and Lucas' lieutenants. He stepped in first and stopped in his tracks when he saw La Révolutionnaire treating La Libérateur's chest wound. The taller vigilante was knelt over, cleaning a seriously infected bullet hole in their hero's abdomen. Enjolras was about to lead the crowd away when the healer turned around. "Come in, just don't disturb him. This is the first sleep he has gotten in weeks," the masked man instructed and no one dared contradict him.  
Enjolras was thanking La Révolutionnaire for his help when the man suddenly pushed past him. He magically had a crossbow in hand and Enjolras tried to follow his eye line as the man clumsily vaulted a table. One of the Lyon men was knelt over La Libérateur, obviously trying to get his mask off. La Révolutionnaire was suddenly behind him with the point if the arrow pressed against the back of the man's neck. "Step away from him!" the masked madman hissed and the man raised his hands away from the unconscious man. Lucas stormed over after seeing the fiasco and grabbed the felon by the collar. The vigilante and revolutionary exchanged a few words before Lucien left with the man.  
La Révolutionnaire put the crossbow away and lifted his injured partner into his arms. The man did not stir at all but it was obvious that the other half of the duo couldn't hold his weight. "I'll help," Enjolras stated and although he could tell the missionary wanted to refuse, he didn't and they shared the load. "Where does he live?" Enjolras asked as they walked into the chill night air.  
"We've been staying with Combeferre," the mystery stated calmly and Enjolras' heart froze in fear.  
"'Ferre! Where's 'Ferre?" he exclaimed, almost dropping the limp body.  
"He'll be fine Enjolras, I bet he is just hiding out until it all blows over," La Révolutionnaire comforted and Enjolras felt himself calm down. That was the rational explanation. Enjolras used his key to unlock the door and they laid the body on the bed. His partner was sat at the side of his bed and Enjolras soon joined him as the sun set in the distance. "Happy Bastille Day Enjolras... We made it a good one," the masked marauder smiled weakly at him and Enjolras had to agree. It had been a good Bastille Day.


End file.
